The Best Man Wins
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Eric is displeased when Tami's old boyfriend returns to Dillon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Yeah, I know, I've been downright crazy with the constant fanfic writing lately. I'm distracting myself from some stressful life issues. This is my escapism of choice – it seems mostly harmless. The flood of stories will, however, slow at some point. This particular story takes place during Season 2 and makes allusion to my latest Eric/Tami backstories, but it is NOT necessary for you to have read those stories to follow this one.

**[1]**

"There he is! There he is!" Mo McArnold called as he weaved through the cocktail crowd – the crowd that was drawn to celebrate his rich generosity – straight toward Eric.

Why had Tami made him come to this Mo-fest of a cocktail party anyway? It was one thing to be polite to Mo when she bumped into him at that grocery store, but to agree to this? What was she thinking? Eric had to play it cool though, he knew. That's what Tami expected of him. If he didn't, she would scold him for being jealous and small minded.

So he pretended to smile while Mo congratulated him on the State Championship. It was harder to smile when Mo congratulated him on his new daughter. "What the hell's it been," Mo asked, "about fifteen?"

Yeah, it was about fifteen years between when Julie was born and when Tami finally got pregnant with Gracie. Yeah, they'd had a lot of trouble conceiving the second time around. Eric supposed Mo thought he'd have done a better job at knocking Tami up. "Yeah, about fifteen," he said, and then realized Mo wasn't talking about his virility. He was talking about how long it had been since they had last seen each other. Although, it was closer to sixteen years ago when Eric had run into Mo at that San Antonio bar. Mo had been taking a business trip even then. Funny how Mo's business trips kept landing him in the same town as Tami. Well…two trips sixteen years a part. Eric supposed that must just be a coincidence. And of course Mo hadn't even seen Tami that last time.

"Red light!" Mo said with a broad smile.

Eric forced himself to laugh casually.

That laugh sounded natural, didn't it? Like he was having fun? He hoped it didn't sound like he wanted to wrap two hands around Mo's neck. "Ah, right, green light, I got ya."

"Hasn't changed a bit, huh?" Tami asked.

Well, at least she was half acknowledging that Mo was still an ass. She wasn't going to suddenly see new depths in her old boyfriend.

"You two look great," Mo told Eric. "Not as great as this one looks." Mo slipped his arm around Tami.

What the hell did McArnold think he was doing? That was _his_ wife right there. _His_ woman. The mother of _his_ children.

_Get your damn arm off of her._ "Ha ha ha ha ha," Eric laughed. _I want to slap you around. Just a little bit._ "Ha ha ha ha ha."

"She looks good," Mo said.

"Yeah, she gets better looking every day." _I know. Because I go to bed with her every night and wake up with her every morning. I get to see her naked. Me. Not you. _

"She sure does," Mo said. "She sure does."

"Awww, sweetie," Tami said, brushing Eric's arm and giving him a warning look that said, _Calm down, it's just Mo. Don't get worked up now. _

He frowned at her. What did she expect? What good did she think could come of this?

Mo told them he had to go off in the helicopter, which was a relief to Eric, but then Mo said he was coming to the game Friday night.

"Oh goooood!" Tami gushed.

Eric couldn't tell if that was her fake gush. She was really good at the fake gush. She used it frequently on the boosters, but that sounded almost like she actually _wanted_ Mo at the game.

"That's fantastic," Eric said. "That's spectacular." Had that sounded too sarcastic? Had the irritation come out in his voice? "I'll get you some good seats."

"You could sit with me!" Tami exclaimed.

What? What was she saying? She was going to sit with her ex-boyfriend – who, by the way, cheated on her – at _his_ game? Was she really just volunteering herself to cozy up to Mo in the stands? Really?

Eric looked at her warily. Tami was a forgiving woman. It was one of the many things he loved about her, and God knew he'd had need of her forgiveness from time to time. But how could she welcome _Mo_ like that?

"We'll sit together at the game," Mo said, and then he kissed her on the cheek. _Kissed_ her. Like it was just some kind of casual nice-to-see-you goodbye.

"You bring 'em, hell," Mo told Eric, and then fake punched him on the cheek. Eric smiled tensely. He ran his tongue across his teeth to give himself something to do other than what he wanted to do. He'd had that fist in his face before. Twice before. He hadn't liked it.

Mo left them to climb into the helicopter.

"Boy I sure have missed him," Eric muttered.

Eric watched Tami watch Mo take off. Her eyes were full of girlish wonder, like they'd been that day she'd come for their first tutoring session at the car dealership, when she'd gazed around the showroom and run her hand over a sparkling new car. She was _impressed_. His wife was impressed with Mo McArnold. Mo and his fancy cocktail party, his real estate moguldom, his charity work, his taking off in helicopters.

Eric gritted his teeth.

[*]

Eric was tense as they drove home. He wished he wasn't so tense, because Tami was a bit loose. She'd plucked more than one glass of champagne from those circulating trays tonight. She was tilting her head back and forth to the music now. Then she turned down the radio. "Why was Mo saying fifteen years? Is his math that bad? It's been at least twenty years since he left Dillon."

"I…uh….I might of run into him in San Antonio once. Soon after Julie was born."

"Why didn't you mention it?"

Because he wasn't supposed to be hanging out with the guys at a bar that night. He was supposed to be home supporting Tami's sufferings with the colicky baby. Eric shrugged. "Thought I had. Hey, listen, why did you invite him to the game?"

"What do you mean?" Tami said. "He invited himself. He just said he was coming. And why wouldn't he? Who _doesn't_ go to football in Dillon?"

"Yeah, but you didn't have to invite him to sit _right next_ to you in the stands, did you?" Eric came to a stop at a light.

She turned and gave him her _you have got to be kidding look_. "Eric, I thought the passage of twenty-plus years would have matured you a little. You're not telling me you're jealous of Mo McArnold, are you?"

The light turned green and he rolled the SUV forward. "Of course not. I'm just saying, why do you have to be so chummy with him? He cheated on you."

"Oh, Lord, Eric, that was so long ago. That was a lifetime ago. Look how far he's come. No reason not to be friendly."

"How far he's come?"

"Well, you saw that – making that big donation. He's charitable now. He's generous."

"He was always generous. He always paid for the beer."

"So you can see some good in him," she said. "Then what's your problem with being friendly?"

"My problem is how friendly _he_ was being with _you_. He didn't have to put his arm around you like that. And what's with the kissing goodbye?"

Tami shook her head. "Oh, Lord, Eric. Seriously? How long have we been married now?"

"About two decades. Give or take."

"_Two decades_. I'd think by now you wouldn't have to worry about some guy putting his arm around me." She shook her head again.

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about."

"Lord, Eric. Good Lord! Mo doesn't have any designs on me. You know what? You sound just like he did when he and I were dating and you were just tutoring me and he was always suggesting you had a thing for me."

"Because I _did_."

"No you didn't," she insisted. "Not then. You thought I was nothing but a stupid slut for the longest time."

"By the time Mo was suspicious of me, let me tell you, he had reason to be. I don't know how you can be so oblivious, sometimes. Like you were about him cheating. I had to _tell_ you he was cheating on you."

"No you didn't. You did not have to tell me that. I knew he was cheating on me. I knew that."

Now Eric shook his head. "I'm just telling you, I can see Mo's game plan as well as he could see mine."

"Jealous isn't sexy, you know."

"Yeah, what is?"

"Taking out the trash," she said. "Taking out the trash is _very_ sexy."

When they pulled into the driveway, he ran to the garage for the can and rolled it out to the curb. Only after he'd done it did he realize it wasn't actually trash day.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Friday]**

It was hard for Eric to concentrate on the game with Mo in those stands, just hanging out there. Next to _his_ wife. Holding _his_ baby.

Why did Tami hand Mo Gracie Belle? And who did Mo think he was, lifting _his_ baby girl up into the air like that? Mo wasn't her daddy. He wasn't her uncle. He wasn't even her godfather. That was _Eric's_ baby. That was _his_ girl. He'd impregnated Tami with that little beauty, thank you very much.

Despite Coach Taylor's distraction, they won the game easily. He widened up the defense in the end to give the opposing team a chance to score. It was the right thing to do.

It felt good to be in Tami's arms after the game, to hear her congratulations and kiss her. But right behind her was…Mo. Jesus. _That guy_. And he was holding Eric's baby.

"Heeeeey, Mo," Eric said and thought, _Give me my baby._

"Great game."

_My baby._ "Come here, you," Eric said, lifting Gracie Belle into his arms. "There's the little one. How you doing?" _My girl._

Tami kissed Mo goodbye on the cheek. What was with all this kissing? Eric didn't kiss women hello and goodbye. What would Tami think if he did, if he just went around smooching women on the cheek all the time?

"You blew the shut out," Mo was saying, or something like that. Eric only half heard him. "Put the hammer down next time."

Eric let it slide. At least Mo was proving himself to Tami to be the same old ass he always was. And at least Tami was already saying, "Bye."

Eric made it a point not to mention how annoying Mo had been when he got home, or that Mo didn't really need to be holding Gracie Belle. He didn't want to delay his victory lay with a squabble, because the victory lay was always among the finest, and he hadn't been getting as much sex as he would like lately, what with the long wait for the green light after Gracie was born and the continued night wakings.

**[*]**

When Tami called Eric to tell him that Mo wanted to take them to a "nice dinner," his first thought was, "I take my wife to nice dinners. She gets to go to nice dinners. She doesn't need _you_ to take her to a nice dinner." His second thought was that Mo was hanging out in Dillon for an awful long time and trying to spend way too much of that time with his wife. "This is the world's longest business trip, isn't it?" he asked her.

Surely Mo had some mansion to return to in Houston. Dillon didn't have that much real estate to buy, and Mo didn't have any relatives in town anymore. There were only two reasons he could still be hanging around - to needle Eric for taking the prize, or to try to take that prize back. Not that Mo had a snowball's chance in the ninth circle of hell of luring Tami into adultery, but Eric didn't want to watch him try either.

He knew, though, that if he said no to this dinner, Tami would accuse him of petty jealousy again, so he had to go along. "All right, fine! But at least let's go get barbecue or something." Mo didn't need to show Tami how much his money could buy. "I don't want to spend all night with Mo."

"Fine, if you're going to be crabby about, let's just not go. We'll do it again next time he's in town."

Oh, no. There wasn't going to be a next time. Mo had best stay out of Dillon and out his wife's sphere. "No. No. Fine. We'll go out. We'll get it done." Tami couldn't accuse him of being jealous, and Mo would have to leave them alone after this. "We'll do it."

**[*]**

"I guess the better man did win," Mo said as he toasted Eric and Tami across the dinner table.

Mo was being surprisingly gracious, Tami thought. Either that, or he was slowly peeling off his old scab so he could smear the fresh blood all over Eric's face. She couldn't quite tell which. Maybe this dinner hadn't been such a good idea. Mo and Eric had never liked each other. Why pretend?

_Because that's what adults do_, Tami reassured herself. _Adults play nice with one another, because adults are civilized._ They weren't immature teenagers anymore. There was no reason they shouldn't be able to display their maturity, their ability to let bygones be bygones.

Maybe she should have told Mo "no" to the dinner without even telling Eric he'd invited them. But she'd had this silly hope that they'd all grown up. _She'd_ grown up after all.

"Well that's just a very kind, kind speech there, Mo," Eric was saying. His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Eric wasn't taking Mo seriously, and Mo had always hated not being taken seriously. Tami could see the tension in Mo's eyes, that look he'd gotten years ago when he was gearing up for a fight.

Time to end this thing before it got out of control. But as Tami tried to segue out of the dinner, Mo pushed for them to remain and ordered a bottle of good whisky.

Tami didn't want Eric drinking whisky. She'd had two glasses of wine, and she wanted Eric to drive. And she certainly didn't want Mo pushing Eric's buttons, because her husband looked about pushed to his limit right now.

"I'll have a shot," Eric said.

_O Lord_, Tami thought. This is what boys did, wasn't it? They couldn't back down from each other. Couldn't turn the other cheek. They strutted, and postured, and pissed.

Mo threw down the gauntlet. "Let's have two."

"Sweetheart," Tami plead. _Please Eric, walk away. Don't rise to his bait. You're a man now. A husband. A father of two. This isn't high school._

Mo cleared his throat and Tami asked for the check. Then Mo and Eric had a mini-pissing match over who was going to pay it.

Tami was more than ready to go.

"To Lucky," Mo said, toasting Eric.

Eric stared him down and half nodded.

_Lucky?_ Tami thought. Who was Lucky? Was that a person? Or…hadn't there been some shouting about who was lucky about what last time Mo and Eric had fought?

The check didn't come.

The drinking went on.

Mo accused Eric of stealing some offense.

"Can we just let this be the last one?" Tami pleaded. Well, at least she was ready to drive home by now, since this pissing match had gone on so long.

"Here's to liars," Mo said.

"Oh, yeah," Eric said, "well we both can agree to that now, can't we?"

Tami tried to get Eric to leave again, but then Mo went there. He went _there_. "Let's talk about something else that you stole, Coach. Let's talk about this little lady right here." Mo pointed to Tami.

"Oh that's ridiculous," Tami said. Nobody _stole_ her. Tami Hayes Taylor was not a piece of _property_ to be _stolen_.

"You look me in the eye," Mo said "and you tell me you were not calling her behind my back and telling her I was sleeping with Billie Dean Elizabeth."

Tami stood up, muttering how ridiculous it all was. "I knew you were sleeping with her." Wait? Billie Dean Elizabeth? She thought the girl's name was Mary Ellen. Was her memory that bad? Or was Mo's? Or had he been sleeping with _two_ girls back then?

It didn't matter. It was time to get out of here. Tami felt like a broken record now, pushing her chair in, telling them they didn't need to finish this off.

"Red light," Eric said. _Eric_ said it. Not even Mo.

"Oh stop it!" she shouted.

Here they went.

And there went the table.

And there went Tami, out the door.

She took the SUV and left Eric there. Let him walk the ten miles home for all she cared.


	3. Chapter 3

The owner of the restaurant called the police as soon as the fight started.

The fight was little like something you might see on a television drama. It was hard to tell what was going on down there on the floor beside the scattered remnants of the table they'd knocked over. There was a lot of ugly grunting and attempted pinning and awkward jostling for position. There were half a dozen undisciplined punches that landed nowhere and a few that finally did – two on Eric's face, and one on Mo's. That alone was enough pain for two middle-aged men to be made suddenly sensible of their surroundings.

"Enough, enough," Eric muttered, breathing heavily and half sitting up as blood dripped from his lip.

Mo, rolling onto his back atop a spoon and blinking through the blood trickling from his forehead down in his left eye, nodded. Eric's state ring had cut a little gash in Mo's forehead – probably not large enough to need stitches. At worse, it would leave a small scar. Mo would brag about that scar in a year, Eric figured. Women would find it sexy.

Eric pulled himself up with the help of the one still standing chair and beheld the mess they'd made.

There were four other tables full of people in the restaurant. They were all staring at him. At least he didn't recognize anybody as a parent of one of his players. "Sorry," he apologized to all of them. "So sorry."

When Mo stood, he wiped the blood from his forehead with a thick white napkin. "All of y'all's meals are on me," he announced. Mo looked at the owner, who was standing with arms crossed over his chest and darkening eyes. "I'll be paying for all the damage," Mo insisted. "In fact, maybe we should discus me buying the restaurant."

Eric rolled his eyes. Mo _had_ to throw his wealth out there, didn't he?

"Coach Taylor?" Sergeant Clarke said as he came in the front door. He looked at the broken table and shattered glass and then at Eric. "Were _you_ involved in this?"

"I'm so sorry," Eric said. "I drank a little too much."

Sergeant Clarke shook his head. "I….I just can't….believe…"

"Officer," Mo said.

"It's Sergeant," Chad Clarke corrected him.

"They sent a Sergeant out for this?" Mo asked. "Isn't this a little below your pay grade? Or does the Coach here," he jerked a thumb toward Eric and smirked "only deserve the best?"

"It's a slow Saturday," Sergeant Clarke said. "You boys come on outside now."

When they were in the parking lot of the restaurant by the police car, Mo started flashing money around.

"Are you trying to bribe me?" Sergeant Clarke asked. "Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law?"

Mo laughed. "No, no, no…."

Sergeant Clarke opened the back of his police car. "Get in."

"You're not actually arresting us, are you?" Mo asked.

"Let's see," Sergeant Clarke said, "disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, destruction of private property – "

"- I'm paying for all of it," Mo insisted. "Twice what's it worth."

"Get in the car, gentlemen."

Eric closed his eyes. Tami was probably not going to bail him out. She'd forgive him, eventually, but tonight it looked like he'd be sleeping in a holding cell.

"Don't you have to read us our rights?" Mo asked.

"I'm not arresting you. I'm taking you home."

"But my car- " Mo motioned toward his convertible.

"You think you're driving in your condition?" Sargent Clarke asked. "Get in the car."

When they were both in the back seat, Eric leaned forward and spoke through the protective divider, "Thank you, sergeant, sir. Thank you."

"Think you could give my boy Landry a little more play time in the next game?" Sergeant Clarke asked.

"I….uh…." Who was Landry? Did he mean Lance?

"Oh, he won't take _my_ money," Mo said. "He's too pure for that. But he'll take your bribe."

Eric shot Mo a deathly look. Mo held up his hands.

"Never mind," Sergeant Clarke said. "I know he's got to earn that on his own merits."

There was silence for a few minutes, and then Mo said, "I guess you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Maybe," Eric said. "She'll forgive me though. Tami always does. Because I never step too far out of line. I don't do things like cheat on her."

"So you _did_ tell her!"

"Boys, you start fighting back there," Sergeant Clarke said, "And I'm making a U-turn in the middle of the street and heading back to the station."

Mo leaned his head against the window. After a couple of minutes of silence, he said, "Eric, I'm sorry about that mess back there. I don't know what came over me. I guess I've always seen Tami as the one who got away. I didn't care that much at the time. But I went through so many girls my first year of college…and then I got cut from the team my second year, and I lost it all. The scholarship, the adulation, the girls…and I thought….what the hell did I do? I could have had a good woman. The kind of woman who would be there when everyone else was gone."

"Yeah…" Eric said softly. "That's Tami."

"I saw her with your baby at that grocery store, as beautiful as ever, and I thought – it's not really fair. I mean I know you're a big time State Champion now, but I own real estate. And lots of it. I could have given her a spectacular life. Dinners out every week, her own backyard pool, all the shoes she wanted. Stuff you can't give her."

Eric fought the urge to smack him. "The stuff you can give her isn't the stuff she wants. She wants what I can give her."

"What's that? A public spectacle in a fancy restaurant?"

Eric sighed. The next couple of days with Tami were not going to be easy, that much was true.

As Sergeant Clarke pulled to a stop by the curb in front of the Taylor residence, Mo said, "Hope I didn't help ruin your marriage there, Coach."

"Tami and I have been together since I was seventeen, Mo. Seventeen. It'd take a hell of a lot more than that." Still, he wasn't looking forward to enduring her annoyance with him, however long that was going to last. He tried to open the car door and realized it wouldn't.

Sergeant Clarke let him out. Eric was a little unsteady on his feet when he stood up. "Listen, uh…." Eric said. "News of this," he gestured to the car. "It doesn't really need to get around, does it?"

"This here's Dillon, Coach Taylor," Sergeant Clarke said. "_I_ won't talk about it, but it's _going_ to get around." He grinned. "Good luck at practice on Monday."

When Eric got inside, Tami was already in bed. She couldn't tell him to sleep on the couch in her sleep, so he just crawled into bed next to her. The room was spinning a little when he closed his eyes.

**[*]**

The next morning, Tami was still annoyed at the childish way Eric had behaved. She knew Mo had provoked him, but Eric should have walked away.

So when he said to Julie, "I was defending your mama's honor," and Julie said, "with your face?" Tami said, "No, he was being an idiot."

_Her_ idiot, granted. But an idiot.

"Would you get me some aspirin please?" Eric muttered from the bed.

"No, honey," she told him. "We're going to church. We've got to run. Love you." And she did love him, despite the whole ridiculous night. He was _her_ idiot, and she'd punish him for a few days, but then they'd make up. "Say bye to your daddy!"

"Bye dad!" Julie said.

"Yell bye louder."

"Bye!"


	4. Chapter 4

"What's with the shiner?" Coach McGill asked as he plopped down onto the couch in the office. Eric paused the game tape and took his feet down from the coffee table.

"Just…I had a minor altercation."

"Yeah…well I heard your _minor_ altercation involved some ex-boyfriend of Tami's throwing you through a glass window at Don Antonio's."

"There were no broken windows."

"What about the table? I heard you knocked over a table."

"You know about that?"

_"Everybody_ knows about it, Eric."

[*]

"Marcus, you know why I called you here to my office today, don't you?" Tami asked the teenage boy across from her desk. He shrugged. "You've been in the principal's office three times this year for fighting, and I think it's time we talked, you know, counselor to student, about why you keep ending up in that situation."

"Why don't you ask your husband?"

Tami leaned forward. "Excuse me?"

"Well, didn't he spend Saturday night in a holding cell?"

"No, Coach Taylor did not spend Saturday night in a holding cell."

"That's what I heard. And he's sure got a bit of a split lip."

Tami sighed. "Marcus, get your books. You're doing a home study for the next couple of days."

[*]

Afternoon practice was a mess. Coach Taylor struggled to regain authority in the midst of the snickers.

He finally just made the team run laps and sent them all home.

**[*]**

Tami hadn't spoken to Eric much at all on Sunday. When he got home from work Monday, she was still giving him the cold shoulder.

When she crawled into bed, he put an arm around her, and she shrugged it off.

"I'm so tired, Eric. I have to get up early tomorrow."

"How long are you going to be mad at me?"

"You humiliated me, Eric. In public. I have no authority with these kids anymore."

He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

**[*]**

"Bless me father for I have sinned," Eric said in the dim confessional. "It has been….I don't know…eighteen, nineteen years since my last confession."

"That's a long time, my son."

"I know. I haven't been a Catholic for a long time. I mean, I go to church. I'm just not Catholic anymore."

"Well, you never really cease to be a Catholic, my son. The doors of Mother Church are always open."

"Anyway, my sins…well, I got in a fight in a fancy restaurant and knocked over a table, because this old ex-boyfriend of my wife's kept provoking me. And now my wife is mad at me."

"As perhaps she should be. Turn the other cheek, my son."

"I did. I turned it about fifteen times. I just…couldn't keep turning it. Anyway, my wife's still mad at me. Any suggestions?"

"This is a confessional, my son, not an advice column."

"Oh, well, when I was younger, my old priest always used to…"

"Try flowers."

**[*]**

Eric did try flowers. He tried dark chocolate. He tried wine. He even tried buying her a Dixie Chicks CD, but it turned out she already had it.

Wednesday night, when he got home from work, she'd left a note: "Leftovers are in the fridge. The neighbor is bringing Gracie home at 6. Julie's at work. I'm out with the book club ladies."

He didn't think that was a good idea right now. Those book club ladies always bitched about their husbands. He was sure it was their favorite pastime – "List ten ways your husband has wronged you. Then see if the next woman can top that! Go!"

No, the book club ladies weren't going to help, even if they did ply her with wine.

**[*]**

"He forgot my birthday _and_ our anniversary this year," one of the book club ladies said, pouring herself another glass of wine. "Tami, does yours do that?"

"Umm…no…he usually does a pretty good job with those two, actually." There were always flowers for both, and Eric usually planned a surprise for their anniversary - a weekend or overnight getaway of some kind - and showered her with compliments.

"Mine spent _half_ of our life savings on a boat," a second book club lady said. "A boat. We're land locked!" She turned to Tami. "What's the worst way Eric's ever wasted your money?"

"Uh…he's pretty frugal, actually, to be honest." In fact, once she'd tried to get him to buy tickets to a Cowboys game he'd longed to see, but he said he couldn't justify the expense at the time because they were saving for a nicer house - a house she preferred.

"Mine cheated on me with his secretary," a third book club lady said. All of the other book club ladies clucked and shook their heads.

"Well, I guess they all cheat sooner or later, in a small way or a big way," a third book club lady said. "Right, Tami?" She refilled Tami's wine glass.

"Um…I'm pretty sure Eric's never _cheated_ on me."

"Well, he probably hasn't," a fifth book club lady agreed. "Mine hasn't either, but he's certainly gotten his share of lap dances at the Landing Strip. They all do, right?"

"Mine is always at the Landing Strip," a sixth book club lady said. "Every Saturday night."

Eric wouldn't dare set foot in the Landing Strip, even if he didn't have to face her wrath for doing so. Tami was pretty sure he'd be personally mortified to go in there.

The book club ladies all looked at her. "We heard Eric busted down a table at Don Antonio's," one said, "wrestling with your ex-boyfriend."

Suddenly, that didn't seem so bad to Tami, comparatively speaking, when she took the long-run picture into account.

** [*]**

Eric was asleep in the chair by Gracie's bassinet in the nursery when Tami got home. Tami got herself ready for bed and then returned to the nursery. She chucked a pair of baby socks in Eric's face to wake him up. He blinked and followed her to the bedroom.

She crawled into bed and sat up against the headboard, where she watched him unbutton his shirt. He really was an attractive man, even after all these years. In some ways, she thought, he was better looking now than when they were in college. She admired his muscular legs as he stripped down to his boxers and peeled off his socks. In the mirror over his dresser, she could see him wearily rubbing his eyes. Finally, he unlatched his watchband and lay the watch on the dresser. "You know what, Tami?" he said. "I'm not the only one responsible for what happened in that restaurant."

"I know," she said gently. She was ready to forgive him. "Mo was equally responsible. I know he provoked you."

"I'm not talking about Mo. I'm talking about you."

She sat up straighter. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you keep shoving him in my face like that? Your rich, successful ex-boyfriend?"

"Because I didn't know you were going to be a jealous idiot, that's why."

"No, really, Tami, why? You know our history. You know I don't like him and he doesn't like me, but you kept….okay, fine, you run into him. Say hi. But what was with the cocktail party, the football game, the dinner? One after another after another? Like you were old friends catching up. We didn't any of us part in a friendly way with each other – not me and Mo, and not you and Mo."

"Maybe that's why I wanted to do it! So we could repair all that!"

"Why? Who cares? Mo's not going to be any part of our lives. Would you even _want_ him to be?"

She shook her head and sighed. "I was just being civilized. I didn't know it was too much to ask of you."

He crawled under the covers. "You just…you _had_ to know that couldn't end well. Two men who don't like each other, who both dated you…you just don't think things through sometimes, Tami."

"_I_ don't think things through? So, when you were busting down that table, you were thinking it through?"

"I just wish you'd assume a little bit of responsibility here. None of it would have happened if you hadn't kept throwing Mo in my face."

"I'm not assuming any responsibility here, Eric. Not one iota of responsibility."

He put his arms behind his head against the wall. "Iota, huh?" he asked. He turned to her and smiled. "Was that one of the SAT words that came up when I was tutoring you in high school?"

She chuckled. "Damn you," she said. "Why do you have to go and remind me why I fell in love with you in the first place?"

"It's all I've got."

She scooted down and put her head on his chest. "It's not _all_ you've got."

"Well," he let his arm fall down across her. "I've got you." He kissed the top of her head. "I hope."

She smiled.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I behaved like a child. I'm sorry I didn't just…walk away. He just…he treated you wrong, Tami, and then he has the nerve to act like I'm in the wrong. Like I stole you. That's not the kind of man I am. Maybe I'm an idiot, and maybe I'm uncivilized, but I am not a liar and a thief. I did _not_ steal you."

She lifted her head to look him in the eyes. "No," she said. "You earned me. And because you earned me, I _gave_ myself to you."

He bent his head and kissed her lips. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too. And I'm sorry I ever asked you to go anywhere with Mo."

They snaked down until they were lying face to face. She kissed the faint, remaining bruise beneath his eye.

"You maybe want to fool around?" he asked.

"Maybe. If you promise to get up for the middle of the night feeding."

"Cross my heart," he said and kissed her ear and whispered, "Tell me what you want."

**[*]**

Later, as they lay naked and spooned together, and he was drifting off to sleep, Tami asked, "Do you ever regret that I'm the only one you've ever had sex with?"

Damn, why did she do this to him? The after-sex quiz, full of questions that had no right answers. She did this at least every third time they fooled around.

"No."

"Really, I'm serious, Eric. I mean, I had Mo. And I fooled around a little with a couple of other guys before Mo. But I was pretty much your first for almost everything."

"You weren't my first kiss."

"But pretty much everything else. Do you ever wish you'd tried all that with someone else?"

"Hmm….let's see….do I regret not cheating on you…"

She rolled over to face him. "No, I don't mean cheating. Just…say before you met me."

"I met you when I was sixteen."

"You were seventeen when we started dating."

He didn't say anything. Silence seemed the safest course.

"Eric, tell me. I'm curious. I'm _just_ curious. Do you ever wonder? What it would be like with someone else?"

He sighed. "Do _you_?"

"Well, I _know_."

"You don't know what it would be like with another _man_. You know what it was like with a teenage boy, but not with a _man_. Do you wonder?"

She was quiet. Aha. He'd turned the tables. Good luck squirming out of that one.

"Of course I do," she said. "I've often wondered."

"_Often?_"

"I just mean…I'm curious. I'm sure you're curious too." So she was answering for him. That was good. She couldn't chastise him for her own answer that she'd made on his behalf.

The truth was, he _was_ curious. He didn't _regret_ it, exactly, but after twenty years of marriage, and a firm sense that they were each other's for life, he thought there wouldn't have been any harm in sowing a few wild oats before they were together. Then again, they might not ever have ended up together if he'd been in the habit of taking the rally girls and cheerleaders up on their casual offers.

"I never think about it," he lied. "You're all the woman I could ever handle, Tami. I love you, and you're damn sexy, and I can't even imagine wanting to have sex with anyone else."

"Awwww…." She kissed his nose. "I know you're lying, sweetheart, but I think maybe I want to be lied to tonight. " She kissed his chin and then his lips. "Let's go for two," she whispered.

He smiled. Pop quiz successfully passed.

**THE END**


End file.
